Moth. A norice[160]
Some dele ystept in age! So mote[161] I gone,
This goeth aright: how highteth[162] she, say you?
Mean. Mistress Joan Potluck, vintner Potluck's widow.
Moth. Joan Potluck, spinster? Lore me o' thing mere
Alouten: what time 'gan she brendle thus?
Mean. On Thursday morning last.
Moth. Y' blessed Thursday,
Ycleped so from Thor the Saxon's god.
Ah, benedicite! I might soothly sayn,
Mine mouth hath itched all this livelong day;
All night me met[163] eke, that I was at kirk;
My heart gan quapp[164] full oft. Dan Cupido
Sure sent thylke sweven[165] to mine head.
Mean. You shall
Know more, if you'll walk in. [Exit Meanwell.
Moth. Wend you beforne;
Kembeth[166] thyself, and pyketh[167] now thyself;
Sleeketh thyself; make cheer much digne,[168] good Robert:
I do arret thou shalt acquainted bin
With nymphs and fauns, and hamadryades:
And yeke the sisterne nine Pierides
That were transmued into birds, nemp'd[169] pyes
Metamorphoseos wot well what I mean:
I is as jollie now as fish in Seine. [Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Hearsay, Caster, Shape.